


Coming Home

by Red_Lenses



Series: When The Storm Breaks [11]
Category: Rockman | Mega Man Classic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chronic Illness, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Hatred, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 17:00:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17349083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Lenses/pseuds/Red_Lenses
Summary: Quint pays Blues a visit and finds him in bad condition.





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> There's a brief vomiting scene one paragraph long near the halfway point, as well as several other references afterward. It's nothing too graphic but it is there.

Quint was not sure what he had expected when he reached the location his brother had directed him to, but it was certainly not a run-down hut in the middle of nowhere. For a moment he did not approach, but simply stood glancing between the scrap of paper bearing the coordinates and the small building they led to. The wood looked slightly rotten and he wasn’t sure whether the vines that curled all around the building were trying to pull it down or hold it up. One of its windows was boarded up and he could see a hole in the glass between the planks. It looked like the type of place that only the wildlife would inhabit.

Would Blues really live in a place like this? Quint tucked the paper away and began to approach warily. When Blues had offered his place as a temporary home, Quint had expected something that at least looked as though it was not about to fall down on top of them. He was almost certain this had to be a trick.

Then again, he reflected to himself, Blues had never exactly lived in the lap of luxury. In the years since the two brothers last saw each other Quint had nearly forgotten about the caves, abandoned vehicles, and empty stores that Blues had mentioned using for shelter. He never stayed in one place long enough to have a real home. With that in mind, this ruin seemed like exactly the type of place he would choose to stay in.

Gravel crunched beneath Quint’s boot as he approached one of the unbroken windows. It was still coated with grime at the edges but a clear effort had been made to wipe it clean. There was no movement in the room beyond, but through the doorway to the next room he could barely make out something green which resembled an abandoned boot lying on the floor.

Summoning every scrap of courage he could gather, Quint crept toward the door. There he paused for a moment, his knuckles hovering inches from the wood as he braced himself to knock. _Just do it,_ he told himself firmly. _If Blues isn’t home I’ll just come back later._

He knocked. The door rattled in its frame at the impacts and slowly began to swing inward. For a moment he paused, uncertain, but then the sound of a muffled groan of pain reached his ears and all thoughts of uncertainty abandoned him. Something was wrong.

Quint pushed the door open fully and entered the house. The floor was firm enough beneath his feet, but he was less focused on that than on finding the source of the noise. At his side his right hand shifted into a weapon. He held it at the ready, braced for danger as he warily approached the doorway. Movement caused him to stop, his eyes flickering downward toward the green boot he had spotted earlier, which had twitched slightly. As he realized what it meant, a chill of fear began to spread through his body and he lunged forward into the next room. “Blues!”

The prototype was curled up awkwardly on his side on the floor, both arms wrapped tightly around his own chest. His helmet lay abandoned beside him, having slipped off when he fell, and his shades sat unevenly on his face. Quint could see his eyes screwed tightly shut with pain. He felt like panicking even though he knew that wouldn’t help at all. “Blues… oh God… don’t die on me, please…”

His eyes scanned the scene and he spotted a dropped E-tank beside the modified Joe helmet. It was still sealed and Quint seized it at once. Maybe it would help. He sank to his knees slowly, fumbling to open the container with hands that were shaking so violently he could barely hold it at all. Almost immediately he spilled some of the fuel onto the floor. Quickly he set the canister down and took a moment to breathe and steady himself. “Okay. It’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna be okay. Let’s just get you through this…”

Blues was panting heavily. Whether or not he was aware of Quint’s presence was unclear; if he knew, he was not reacting in anyway. Quint carefully slid an arm beneath him and lifted him just enough to prop his brother’s upper body against his knees. “Here you go. Drink this. It’ll help.” He lifted the E-tank to Blues’ lips. He panted for a moment longer before managing to take a shaky sip.

“There. That’s good. You- you’re gonna be just fine, okay?” Quint’s free hand was resting on his brother’s shoulder, keeping him from slipping back down onto the floor. Slowly he let it creep forward toward his chest, sliding his fingers beneath Blues’ folded arms. The amount of heat he felt emanating from his core was a confirmation that this was exactly as severe as he had thought. “I’ve gotta cool you down… Water. You need water.”

His hands supported Blues’ head and shoulders as Quint lowered him with great care back down to the ground. Then he was on his feet again, searching for any sign of a source of running water connected to the house while his brother’s gasps and shuddering groans rang in his ears.

There were a stack of boxes sitting in a corner. In the first one Quint found E-tanks. but the second contained several bottles of water. He snatched one up and continued digging until he uncovered a ragged towel. With these prizes in hand he returned to his brother. “Right. I know it hurts but I need you to move your arms…”

Blues barely seemed capable of moving under his own power at all. Following instructions was out of the question. It fell to Quint to carefully pry each of his arms away from his chest, at which point he folded the towel and placed it directly over his core. Once it was in place he poured a generous amount of water over it. The lukewarm liquid hissed and began to evaporate into wisps of steam as it came into contact with hot synthetic skin, drawing another gasp from Blues. As far as Quint was concerned, though, it could only do him good. “There. That should cool you down a bit on the outside. Now let’s get some inside you as well.”

Blues choked slightly on the water Quint trickled into his mouth. When he swallowed it he immediately began coughing; a weak, rattling type of sound that put Quint in mind of dying people. He grabbed the E-tank again, wishing they were within reach of a refrigerator. What Blues really needed was water cold enough to draw the heat away. Without that he was lost about what to do. “Here, have some more of this.”

His murmured reassurances became background noise as Quint continued feeding him the fuel one sip at a time. At times Blues lay limply in his arms, while at other times he mustered the energy to grip his chest or emit a groan of pain. Whatever internal struggle his body was undergoing was clearly not easing off at all. That thought only made Quint feel more helpless. He was going to lose his brother all over again - but this time it would be his fault.

Almost half of the E-tank was gone. Blues was breathing heavily again, his fingertips pressing into the towel covering his chest. Quint touched it to make sure it was still damp before bringing the E-tank to his brother’s mouth again, but this time Blues groaned softly and raised a hand to shove his arm away. He lay there for a moment longer before his body abruptly jolted, twisting to one side as though desperate to escape.

Black fluid splattered onto the ground beside Quint’s knee, staining the aged wood beneath them. Quint watched in horror as Blues gasped and choked before bringing up a second mouthful. It left a dark trail down the side of his mouth and dripped onto his brother’s leg; Quint could feel the warmth but was too distracted with fear to be disgusted. In all of his years alive he had never seen a robot vomit before. He had not even known it could happen.

Blues was coughing again but no more fluid escaped him. Shakily Quint wiped his mouth clean with a corner of the towel before rolling him onto his back again. “You… you need to drink some more of this. I know it’s… you won’t want to, but… but you need some fuel inside you so you don’t run out of energy. All right? Just a little bit… just one mouthful. Even half a mouthful.”

He raised the E-tank again and Blues obediently drank. This time once he had swallowed, Quint set the canister down on the floor. He was shaking so badly he feared he might spill it everywhere if he tried to hold it up any longer. “Blues, I… I’m so sorry… I don’t know how to help you. Maybe once I was a lab assistant, but… but that was so long ago… sometimes it feels like I just imagined it all. I… I can’t… I’m just a Wily bot… just a runaway… just a heap of scrap who doesn’t belong anywhere…”

His voice was trembling and cracking as he finally began to give in to the fear. Blues was going to die; he was sure of it. He needed someone who could save him. But all he had was a broken excuse for a brother who had been corrupted by Wily’s hands. An echo who had been stripped of everything that once made him a hero. Not only did he lack the skill to save his brother, but he was sure he would not even be able to gather the courage to do what was right and return him to his family.

He didn’t deserve the kindness Blues had extended to him.

Quint’s stuttered apologies and whimpers of self-loathing dissolved gradually into sobs and uneven breathing as he clutched Blues close. When the towel felt too dry he dampened it once again, but for the most part he simply clung to his brother and cried. His tears blurred the room beyond recognition, leaving him only able to judge Blues’ condition by the slight movements of his upper body and the faint sounds he could hear over his own crying.

As the minutes ticked by, Blues gradually settled down and fell still in Quint’s lap. His lack of movements only scared and upset the shorter robot even more. Only once he could no longer shed another single tear did he finally wipe his eyes with the back of a wrist and turn his attention to examining his brother.

He expected to find that Blues had ceased functioning. It was the only logical conclusion after witnessing such a severe core attack. But when he placed his hand upon the still-damp towel he felt the low thrum of life beneath. He stripped it off and touched the wet shirt beneath, seeking out excess warmth and finding none. “You’re… okay…? You… you’re asleep… need more energy.”

Shakily he brought the rest of the E-tank to Blues’ lips. In his unconscious state he could not swallow, but Quint kept his head tilted back and poured a little at a time into his mouth until he was sure that he had managed to get all of it down his throat. “There… that… that’s good. Now, you just sleep, and I’ll… I’ll clean up.”

In a tiny back room Quint located a mattress covered in threadbare blankets. His arms shook beneath the weight as he carried his brother in to put him to bed, laying him atop the covers rather than beneath them. He didn’t need the extra warmth after what he had just been through. When Quint took a step back, he blinked to switch on his night vision and studied his sleeping brother in search of further issues that might require attention. His eyes were instead drawn to a large dark stain on the edge of the mattress, half-concealed by the bedcovers. _So this has happened before, has it?_

Blues looked almost peaceful as he slept. Quint removed his sunglasses, placing them close to his head, before slipping quietly out of the room.

* * *

The return to consciousness was slow and uncomfortable. Every part of Blues’ body ached as though he had been battered around in a tumble-dryer. He let out a muffled groan, one hand creeping up toward his chest. There he paused as he felt an unusual dampness on his shirt. At once the memories came rushing back and his fingers tightened as the sound of shuffling footsteps reached his ears.

A hesitant voice spoke up from nearby. “Blues…?”

He forced his eyes open. He was lying in his bed and the room around him was dark, but there was light streaming in from the doorway. He could see something casting a hazy shadow on the wall nearby. He turned his head, squinting at the figure silhouetted against the brightness. “Ro… Quint…?”

“Yeah… yeah, it’s me, Quint.”

He shuffled into the room and crouched down by the bed. Blues shifted slightly, attempting to get his elbows beneath him in order to lift himself, only to find a hand holding him down. “No, don’t get up. You need to rest. That… that was scary. I mean, what happened to you. I thought you were gonna die.”

Blues opened his mouth to respond and found that he lacked the strength to speak. Instead he emitted another soft groan. Quint edged closer, presenting him with the E-tank he had grabbed when he heard his brother stir. “Do you think you can drink this? Or is it gonna come back up again?”

“No, I can…” That was the most Blues could manage before his voice trailed off. Quint seemed to understand and began attempting to open the canister with fingers that were still trembling slightly. As he crawled onto the mattress in order to properly support Blues’ head, the prototype noticed several droplets of black near the knee of his bodysuit. Considering Quint’s question he doubted that was from a spill.

He swallowed the mouthful Quint was giving him before making another attempt at speech. “Sorry for… getting some on you before.”

“Some what? Oh…” Quint brushed at the leg of his suit near the marks. “It’s fine. I’m more worried about why that happened to you. I didn’t even know it _could_ happen… But that wasn’t the first time, was it?” His eyes drifted down to the dark stain on the mattress as he spoke.

Blues followed his gaze and shrugged one shoulder feebly in response. The movement sent another wave of pain through his weakened body. “It happens. When my… my core is struggling… my whole body acts up.”

He closed his eyes as he allowed Quint to assist him. The more fuel he consumed, the more strength gradually began to return to his limbs. Soon he felt strong enough to lever himself carefully upright and take the E-tank, which Quint willingly handed over once he was certain his brother was capable of holding it. Instead he simply supported Blues as he drained the last of it.

“Feeling any better?” he enquired as the prototype set down the empty canister beside his bed.

“I’m not about to run a marathon, but at least I’m not actively dying now.”

Quint shot his brother a look and was rewarded with a familiar smirk, albeit a much weaker one than he was used to. It had been such a long time since he saw that expression on his brother’s face. The sight of it brought tears to his eyes once again, but before he could take it in properly it had been replaced with a more sincere smile. “I’m glad you decided to come here. I was worried you wouldn’t.”

“You were… worried? About me?”

“Of course,” Blues told him quietly. “Just look at the way you were living. You deserve to have somewhere to call home, even if it is just an old ruin like this. It might not have much more than the minimum requirements of shelter and E-tanks, but that’s all we really need. It’s a comfort to know you won’t have to go without either.”

Quint wiped his eyes and managed a tremulous smile. “Thanks… I wasn’t sure if I should come, but I’m glad I did.”

Blues rested there for a moment longer before straightening up, freeing himself from Quint’s grip. “I suppose the first thing we need to do is find a second mattress.”

“What- no, I don’t need one! I can just sleep on the floor. I mean I don’t have to sleep at all-“

“We’re getting you one and that’s final. I know a place we can pick one up cheap. There just wasn’t any point in buying it when I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again.” Carefully he began to rise to his feet, only to find himself being forced down again almost immediately. Quint was on his knees now, his hands firmly on his brother’s shoulders as he gently pushed him back down onto the mattress, paying no attention to his protests until he was completely horizontal again.

Once he was on his back again and blinking in confusion, Quint released him and instead began to loosen his gauntlet to dig for the pencil tucked away inside. “You’re not going anywhere just yet. If you really want to get it, how about you tell me where to find it and I’ll write it down and go buy it myself? You need to rest.” There was a determined glint in his eyes that reminded Blues strongly of who Quint used to be. There was no point arguing with him when he was like this, he thought to himself resignedly.

Several minutes later, when Quint was gone and Blues lay alone in the darkened room, he found himself smiling as he tried to get comfortable. Despite the fact that he had not wanted any of his family to know he was still alive, the thought of one of his brothers living with him brought forth a feeling of warmth in his chest unrelated to his core. It was as though that was the last thing he needed to be happy here.

Maybe this run-down shack could even begin to feel like a real home.


End file.
